Maewyn's Prophecy 2: Pilgrim Heart

Emily Veinglory

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The path of love has many trials... Peter finds his true love in the form of Veleur, a silver-haired elven magician, but that is only the beginning. He is thrown in the midst of a group of magic-workers, persecuted by a secret ...
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The path of love has many trials...

Peter finds his true love in the form of Veleur, a silver-haired elven magician, but that is only the beginning. He is thrown in the midst of a group of magic-workers, persecuted by a secret religious order and proves completely unable to master his own natural powers. Just when he needs his lover the most, Peter’s left vulnerable and abducted by the League of Maewyn who seek to use his abilities to further their own despicable plans.

He stands alone and untrained against the insane ghost of one of the greatest wizards in history, the legendary St. Patrick. His only hope is that Veleur’s love will lead him to Peter’s side and his rescue.

There was something rather dispassionate and defensive in the way that he was speaking. Peter began to feel cold inside, began to doubt the bond he thought he already had with this reserved elf. Rather than let his doubts grow, he closed the distance between them.

He ran his hand down Veleur's forearm. “You shouldn't have sprung me on them like that.”

Veleur frowned and turned into his embrace. “It is best to leave them to make their own judgments, I assure you.”

Peter began to realise that Veleur might actually have been worried about how his friends would respond to his new ex-League-of-Maewyn lover. Veleur wrapped his arms around Peter's waist and leaned into his chest. Veleur's chin came to rest upon the crook of Peter's neck and shoulder.

“They will love you,” Veleur said. “As I do.”

It was the first time he had actually said it. Peter had been the first to use the L -word, in the dark of night several days ago. He felt the knot in his chest unfurl and release the tension throughout his body. He pulled Veleur close, holding his hand on the back of Veleur's head, where his silver-blond hair fell slick and long. The elf smelt faintly of sandalwood. Peter closed his eyes and tried to hang on to how he felt -- like nothing else could shake him, like little else in the world existed.

He felt Veleur's hands slowly insinuate beneath his shirt, seeking contact with his skin. He bowed his head, savored the brush of Veleur's wiry hair against his cheek, the softness of delicate skin against his lips. He felt Veleur's fingers slide beneath the waistband of his trousers.

With an impatient groan, he turned, lifting Veleur bodily onto the great expanse of the bed. Veleur lay across the width of the bed, with his knees dangling over. His hair splayed out around him, and his eyes sparked with anticipation. Peter grabbed the bottom of the elf's close-fitting knitted top and peeled it up, revealing the long, pale expanse of his almost hairless torso. Peter restrained himself a little longer, drawing down Veleur's trousers and slipping off his socks and soft brogues.

Peter always felt like he was seeing Veleur's naked body for the first time. There was something unique and endlessly surprising about the perfect symmetry of him, the whorls of almost invisible sparse hairs that trailed from the notch at the base of his neck in a ragged diamond to the base of his ribcage.

Veleur reached up towards him, long fingers unfurling into a gesture of total welcome. Glints of uncanny magical flame rippled over Veleur's skin and flowed from the tips of his fingers. Peter tore off his own clothing with undisguised haste, feeling answering crimson fire welling up from within him, yearning to mingle with its mate. He knelt on the floor to yank off his shoes and pants. Still kneeling, he leant over the bed and lapped his tongue over the discreet, in-turned whorl of Veleur's belly button. He glanced upward to see Veleur watching him through lowered lashes, as implacable as an icon of the Madonna. Peter loved, more than anything else, to see the mask of indifference crack and reveal the passions stirring beneath.

He wound the tip of his tongue down through the almost imperceptible burr of hair, to the base of Veleur's lightly veined cock. The buzz of raw magical energies tasted of sherbet and sulphur. Peter wrapped the top of his tongue firmly over the base of the shaft and wrapped the tip around to the underside. He ran the rough surface of his tongue up and down the underside of Veleur's cock, feeling it stiffen and rise. He traced down from there along the exquisitely sensitive seam of flesh that ran down to the crease of his lover's buttocks.

A thrill ran down his spine when he heard Veleur moan -- a deep and sonorous sound, like the purr of a tiger. His own penis strained upwards; his balls tensed. He traced the flesh slowly down to the puckered flesh of Veleur's rear. He ran his tongue lightly over it, circling it and feeling the elf shiver and raise his legs to rest comfortably over Peter's shoulders.

Peter was still cautious in the more intimate gestures. He let the tip of his tongue touch that portal gently. Veleur's body took on the absolute stillness that Peter had learnt meant that Veleur was concentrating entirely on what his body felt. Peter was not ready yet to go further than that. He moved languorously around the edge again and then travelled back upwards.

Veleur's cock lay up against his belly. Peter took the tip of it into his mouth. He pushed the foreskin gently back from the head, tasting the sweet-salt taste of the exposed flesh. His hands slid up each side of Veleur's creamy flanks, to his waist. He took Veleur's cock into his mouth halfway and ran his taut lips over the surface. Veleur arched his back, trembling under his attentions.

Peter released him and slid his body further up. Veleur's long, lithe legs stayed gripped over his shoulders. He felt Veleur's eager cock against his chest, slick upon the sweat building on the skin in the hot envelope of the air between their bodies.

Veleur reached forward and grabbed a rough handful of Peter's hair.

“I want you in me now,” Veleur said without any restraint or refinement.

Copyright © Emily Veinglory


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